Jana staggered through the gates of the city, Merlie growing heavier in her arms by the step. The servant was barely conscious. Jana kept mumbling a litany of encouragement under her breath. “Almost there, few steps more, almost there.” She’d forgotten which one of them it was meant to encourage.
Sweat ran from the fringe across her forehead and stung her eyes; her shoulders and arms were numb. The bustling crowds of the afternoon had thinned considerably, but no one offered to help the two exhausted girls. Jana managed to make it as far as the door to the Ouest Inn before she fell to her knees, Merlie leaning heavily against her sore back. With what little strength remained in her, Jana pushed open the heavy oaken door. “Edina?” she croaked, her throat parched.
From inside the inn som
